Simple Things
by Hay
Summary: Sometimes we need to stop and look at who we're walking past.


Simple Things  
charminghay@aol.com  
  
He saw her every day on his way to work, as he straightened his suit jacket and shuffled the brief case and laptop computer he held in his left hand. Every single morning he watched her out of the corner of his eye, careful not to make eye contact. He wouldn't want to embarrass her…or was it himself he did not want to embarrass?   
  
She sat quietly on the sidewalk, a few trash bags full of bits and pieces surrounding her. All day she would sit, just watching the world rush by; different people, all with unique personalities going about their lives without so much of a thought to the people they passed. Everyone seemed to be in a rush. Where were they rushing to? What was so important that it couldn't wait a few minutes while everyone shared a smile, or a whispered 'hello'?  
  
There were many people that walked by her all day and many would blatantly stare at her or shoot a few disgusted words in her direction. Many would also pretend not to look at her, but she could always see them, watching her out of the corner of their eye. Some seemed curious of her, others fearful. Was the sight of a homeless woman so scary? Her eyes were barely filled with life, let alone evil. Did they know her life story? Where she had been and what she knew? What could she teach the children, whose parents forced their faces to the front, averting their eyes from the evil woman that lived on the sidewalk. Were these the same parents that worked sixty hours a week and hired a nanny and housekeeper for their children? The same parents that disappeared on the weekend to country clubs and cocktail parties. The parents who barely knew their children's birthdays and never read them a bedtime story.  
  
He was one of those parents. He worked long hours, leaving before the children woke and returning long after their bedtime. He bought pretty pink dresses for his little girls, but they were always the wrong size and they would have preferred a skipping rope. He would come home with a new piece of sports equipment for his boys, but he didn't realise they'd switched from baseball or basketball almost three months before. When he had a chance to read them a story, they were too old to be read to. When he wanted to take them out to a movie, they were too mature and he was bad for their image. It seemed they were only children he provided for and shared little with him other than their genetic makeup. His wife, who he had once loved and cherished, had become merely his partner in a marriage of convenience. They slept in different rooms, socialised in different circles and fraternised outside of their partnership. They were nothing but financial partners and their children were products of their yesterdays. They were the people of today. The people who no longer cared.  
  
She saw him, every day as he walked past. One of those men who looked out of the corner of his eye at her. She wondered if he was trying to look beneath the woollen hat and dirt marked face to see if she were once attractive. If the knotted hair that peaked out of her coat collar had once flowed down her back like a silk scarf. Or was he just looking at her in hope that one morning when he walks past, she will no longer be there? That she would have been moved on or better yet, died a timely death.   
  
The days passed and the scenery never changed to them, to the people that walked passed every day. But to her it did, every day it changed and as the years passed, everything seemed different. She watched him more closely, one day his eyes were downcast and with each passing week, his shoulders drooped more and his head hung low. Her heart skipped a few beats when one morning, he didn't walk by. A week went by and there was no sign of him.   
  
That weekend though, when the world seemed vastly different from the weekdays, he came. With a backpack on his back and another bag hooked over his shoulder, he walked down the sidewalk. He just walked slowly, moving forward but having no place to go. Hesitating slightly, he stopped in front of her; meeting her eyes for the first time. She watched him too, seeming to analyse him, making her own assumptions as he had about her since the first day he seen her.  
  
Placing his bags on the sidewalk he sat on them, clearing his throat before speaking. "I've seen you every day for five years." He said softly, "And I've never said 'Hello'."  
  
She smiled, her teeth grossly yellowed and decayed, but the smile reached her eyes. Their dullness seeming to light up, ever so slightly. "Hello." She said, nodding.  
  
"Hello." He returned. "I've lost my job, my family, my home and my dignity." He added after a long pause, "I should have greeted you before."  
  
She shrugged her shoulders, rearranging some of her bags to make a space for him. "I trust you have no place to go?"  
  
He shook his head, "I've found that sometimes, friends aren't really true friends."  
  
"Life teaches us hard lessons, but they're important lessons to learn."  
  
"Like not ignoring those who aren't in our cliques."  
  
She nodded, giving him another smile. "I always have space for a friend." She insisted, indicating to the area she had cleared. "What is your name?"  
  
"Leo." He replied slowly, "Just call me Leo."  
  
"I'm Piper." She offered, "And I was once just like you. Don't be afraid, simple things can bring great rewards."  
  
  
~~~  
A gentle word, like summer rain,   
May soothe some heart and banish pain.  
What joy or sadness often springs  
From just the simple little things!"   
- Willa Hoey  
~~~  
  
Finish! 


End file.
